A Little Red Bottle
by repressedemotions
Summary: Fremione. One shot. Hermione steals an unknown drink belonging to Fred, resulting in confusion and, finally, a realisation.
"I am going to _murder_ you!"

Fred stared at Hermione, and for the first time in his life, he was at a loss for words.

"I am going to shove my fist down your throat, pull out your intestines and then strangle you with them!"

Hermione's unsettlingly vivid threat would have terrified Fred, for there was no doubt about her sincerity, but his mind was preoccupied by the dazzling fact that he could see her. His eyes flicked down to the unmarked red bottle in her hand and then back up to her face. He could see _her_.

* * *

Hermione had overslept due to a revision session that lasted until a bleary 4:00 a.m., and so was running late. Unable to go to the Great Hall for breakfast, she slyly took the bottle beside Fred as she passed him in the common room and wished him a good morning. She had assumed that the drink was Expat's Explosive Strawberry Juice as she had gulped it down, but she should have realised that nothing found in the proximity of Fred Weasley could be so simple. She almost blamed herself and her naivety more than the idiot sat before her.

As Hermione had rushed through the corridors to get to Potions, she had mainly been gawked at, but there was the occasional scream and spontaneous eruption of sobs. She assumed it was some sort of practical joke that she simply didn't comprehend – it wasn't the first time – but as she slipped into the dungeon and encountered Ron, she realised that something was different.

"Fleur! What are you doing here?" he asked with surprise clouding his features, though he apparently still possessed enough brainpower to try to subtly sort out his hair (emphasis on the 'try').

"Oh, shut up Ron," Hermione said.

Ron stared at her with wide eyed. "You know my name?" he sighed, looking as though he was a second away from swooning. Hermione rolled her eyes, but something didn't settle well within her; Ron was not that good an actor.

As Hermione watched with her mouth agape at the blubbering mess that her friend had become, Harry sauntered over, ten minutes late and lucky that Snape was even later.

"Oh, hey Ginny. What're you doing here?" he asked. Ron was too focused on showing 'Fleur Delacour' his skills at potion brewing (he was somehow melting through his cauldron, despite the lack of corrosive ingredients) to hear Harry's greeting, but Hermione was tired of this. Harry was the one person who would never do this to her, so she figured that this wasn't an extravagant joke. She jumped off her stool, gathered her various belongings into her hands and rushed though the door. As she left the dungeons, she brushed past Snape. His head turned to follow her and he stared with tear-filled eyes. She was momentarily thrown off at the most human-looking Snape she'd ever encountered, but preferring not to know how she appeared to elicit such a response, she ran away.

As she made her way back to the Gryffindor Tower, she stuffed her potions equipment into her bag, and her hand found a half-empty red bottle.

"That dick," she murmured to herself through gritted teeth.

* * *

Fred hadn't seen her taking the bottle and his greeting that morning was genuine, not 'manipulating' her into 'crude human testing'. He was barely paying attention to her outburst (although the emotional Snape part did spark his interest). Instead, he was staring at her, feeling himself turn increasingly pink.

Hermione was beautiful but Fred hadn't always noticed since, after all, she was his little brother's best friend (and probable crush). Her hair was on the crazy end of the spectrum, but he always thought that it suited her perfectly, representing the nature of the wonderful thoughts that emerge from her mind. Her eyes were bright and clear, and when they looked into his own, they made him feel as though he was the only person in her entire existence. Her laugh, however, was what he loved most. He'd once found her crying alone, and the tiny laugh that she'd blessed him with after his numerous attempts at cheering her up was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. It was a sound that he wanted to hear more, so due to selfish reasons (as well as some unselfish ones), he vowed to bring it out as often as he could. Her laugh emerged so rarely that every time he succeeded, he felt a sense of victory worthy of winning the Quidditch World Cup. He had noticed that each victory was progressively easier, and that recently, her lips naturally extended upwards when in his presence. He still felt exhilarated with every laugh, and he had assumed that this was due to the thrill of the game, but perhaps it was more than that. All her knew was that he wanted to make her laugh as though she was the richest girl in the world, with millions of laughs to spare. He watched her, absorbing all of the details that he'd never truly realised, as she continued her rant.

* * *

As his left ear had started to ache slightly, Fred cut her off. He said, "I can see you."

"What?" Hermione asked, slightly out of breathe and thoroughly disgruntled at being interrupted.

Fred grabbed the drink out of her hand and without the slightest of pauses, he chugged down its remaining contents. He then wiped the corner of his mouth, and asked, "What do you see?" He stared deep into her eyes, as though seeking out the answers himself.

Hermione's confusion displaced some of her anger, and the intensity of his stare caused an entirely different, unknown emotion to run through her veins – unknown, but it felt familiar in his presence.

"What do you see?" he repeated, vulnerability visible in his gently furrowed brows.

"I see a twat," she said, only slightly venomously.

Fred let out a quick, surprised laugh. He then turned and shouted across the room, "Hey, Alicia?"

"Holy Shit! It's Brad Pitt! Wait… What?" At this, Fred allowed himself to laugh properly, until tears streamed down his face and his stomach ached. Hermione watched him, annoyed, and Alicia stared, bemused but hopeful.

When he finally could speak, he shouted, "It's just me. It's Fred. Just testing a Wheezes product."

With her hopes slapped off her face with his words, Angelina shouted, "Fuck you, man," then returned to her conversation.

Fred wiped away his tears, then looked at Hermione with shiny eyes. "You see me?" he confirmed.

"Obviously." She collapsed onto the sofa in front of her, sitting beside him. She let go of her anger, then sighed, "I'm confused."

"And how much did that little confession hurt?" he joked.

"Fred" she groaned, exasperated and exhausted.

After a final chuckle, he said, "The potion. Uh, it… Well, it makes you appear as who others most desire." He paused so that she could process his words, then continued, "We haven't tested it yet – I was going to today – but George and I hypothesised that it would create varied results, showing celebrity crushes, soul mates and everything in between."

Hermione was quiet for almost five minutes, and Fred allowed her the time to understand what he had implied. She then abruptly said, "Ron saw Fleur." She had decided to exclude Harry's vision.

"Of course he did," Fed smiled.

After another period of silence, during which Fred grew increasingly anxious and expressed his fear of losing her in fidgety movements, Hermione whispered, "I see you."

After exhaling a shaky breath, Fred said, "I see you, too."

Hermione turned to face him and stared into his warm brown eyes. Her gaze then shifted slightly to the slight crinkles in the outer corners; they grew more pronounced the longer she stared as his smile grew. She returned her gaze and stared into his eyes for just a moment, wondering about how she had never realised how incredibly beautiful he was.

"What does this make us?" she forced out, but despite all of her determination, the words came out no louder than a breath.

"I have no idea," he replied in an equally faint tone.

Hermione began laughing, and Fred's heart leapt at the sound. His laugh soon joined hers.


End file.
